Flies on the Steering Wheel

Like the fly on the wheel who says

"What a lot of dust we’re raising"

Are you under the illusion

That you’re part of this scheme?

- Neil Peart, "The Stars Look Down."

We have been duped by the doors that modern technology has opened into thinking we have way more power than we do. The new "opiate of the masses" is the impression that because we can, say, write a blog or post about social issues on social media, that we can "make a difference." We are all scuttling around -- all of us writers and socially conscious tweeters and Facebookers -- dumping our energy into the garbage bin. We click "post" and we feel as if we have contributed to the well-being of humankind, for the day. 

We have not. It is a drug. It lulls us into not acting in the way we should to help our fellow humans. It is a distraction; it is what we are doing while real opportunites for doing some thing meaningful are slipping away.

I recently wasted a large portion of intellectual and emotional energy on a Facebook discussion about a political issue. As I was wrapped up in it, I stopped and asked myself: Why am I doing this? Why am I investing time and emotional energy into this discussion? What's the payoff? The truth is, I was participating because I am Peart's fly arguing with some other flies. In point of fact, the only measurable results I have seen come out of conversations like this have been ruined relationships. I know tey say you shouldn't say this, but, "Never again."

Even this blog -- I love to write it. (I sounded like Donald Trump just there...ha!)  I have some excellent, consistent, intelligent followers. I have made some very cool "friends" through blogging; friends from many parts of the world. I appreciate that very much. But I have, long ago, dropped the illusion that what I say here has any impact beyond earning head-nods from those who would probably agree with me, anyway -- which is why they come back, really.

This is not to say that a conversation and a kicking around of the finer points of a topic are not useful. It is a worthwhile activity. But it is arrogant to think most of this is anything more than just a water-pistol squirt into the ocean. 

I recently saw a quote attributed to Mother Theresa:

"If you want to change the world, go home and love your family."

I have been saying things similar to this for around six years now, on this very site. We need to stop being sucked into meaningless "dialogue-ing" on social media and look to our neighborhoods, our children and our friends. That is where we can make a difference. We can make a difference by volunteering locally, by becoming teachers and couselors, but not by sharing memes and getting into scraps with people over Trump's administration.

We are, indeed (and I have been there, too), all that fly on Peart's steering wheel in the opening quotation. This sets the perfect stage; we think we are contributing to change, so that those who would take advantage of us can use the time to plot. At the risk of overdoing metaphors, the dogs have been thrown a steak (the Internet) and we canine fools hunch down and blissfully devour as life goes on outside.

Sure, I will keep writing what I think, but not because I believe I am in control of the wheel -- because I am the sort who has to express his ideas and because I hope to raise interesting questions that might -- just might -- contribute to something positive.

Superficial Extremes: A Consequence of Too Much Information

When too much information (the Internet) is presented to too many people (smart and stupid alike) the result is going to be that most people will understand only a fraction of what they see. The result of this, it seems to me, is that the less intelligent (and there are more of these than those who are more intelligent) are going to pick up the surface message and run with it. This results in superficial extremes of thought and action.

For instance, I was teaching a class about comparison and contrast writing the other day, and I showed two videos. One was of civilians respectfully and calmly resisting an invasion of their privacy by the police. In this video, the citizen who was stopped at a drunk-driving checkpoint refused to present ID, because he was neither suspected of nor observed in doing anything illegal. The officer let him go on his way without any fight.

The message here is that this person chose to "call BS" on the police and to hold his ground so that they did not violate his privacy. Apparently, he was within his rights, because the police let him go on his way.

So, if you put a few videos like this on the Internet, those without insight or without the necessary intelligence to see the real message are going to react with superficial extremes. Case in point: the second video I showed my class. in which a man is pulled over for doing 60MPH in a 35MPH zone. When asked for ID, he refuses, even after being told he was clocked at way over the speed limit. Through a series of events, starting with the driver rolling up his window and ending with him spitting on the police officer, the officer pulls him out of the car and tried to cuff him. As he is being subdued, the driver begins chanting. "I do not consent. I do not consent..."

In this guy's walnut of a brain, he had processed reasonable resistance to an invasion of privacy into the notion that the police may not detain or arrest anyone who does not want to be detained or arrested. All of the middle-ground has been bypassed. All questions of probable cause or lawful orders by the police have been graced over by this guy because he is not equipped to understand the real substance of the information he has been presented by reasonable, rights-conscious citizens. (And, also because he, too, want to be an Internet star.)

Take this all as a metaphor for any other number of concepts presented on the Internet, from the "science proves" posts to the "top ten reasons" articles to the analyses of reasons that millenials support Bernie Sanders. Those unequipped to deal with the information they are handed are going to go to superficial extremes of thought and action.

If "science proves" that coffee is good for you, you can bet legion of idiots will begin hooking up the intravenous, 24-hour drips within the span of five minutes.

Window of Negativity

I like young people. I work with them every day. My worst moments in school never have anything to do with them -- it's always something or someone else, most usually the adults. The kids, though, are usually the reason I have any hope for the future. They make me laugh; they really want to learn, provided the lesson is sincere and insightful.

So, why, when I look at the Internet, do I feel extreme distaste toward the behavior of young people? 

It's because the Internet is a window of negativity. We all know this. And, if we know this, why do we let it shape our picture of the outside world?

The Power Windows (Rush) album cover, by Hugh Syme. 

I don't let the Internet picture disrupt my view of young people because what I see of the real, live ones every day reminds me that "the kids are alright" -- to steal a phrase. 

But how many other things are tainted for me by the window of negativity? How many other things come to me through the invisible digital wire that are not corrected by daily, flesh and blood reminders?

It is a frightening question. The only answer, I suppose, is optimism in the face of the worst apparent (and non-stop) evidence possible. And that ain't easy. 

The Old Web and the New Web

The old web: It is an exquisite structure, stretching to points connected to solid surfaces. It is nearly invisible, except when hit properly by the light or when little, glistening globes of water travel its skeins before being burned off by sunlight. At its center, a single spider waits. And when she feels the vibration of a struggling creature who made a mistake, she travels outward, smothers it, and sucks out its life.

The new web: It is an exquisite structure, stretching to points unknown from one end of the world to another, connected to screens and keyboards and fingertips. It is invisible, except when screens light up and glow against information-hungry faces. At its edges (not the center, the edges, out in the invisible darkness) innumerable spiders wait. And when they feel the vibration of a struggling creature who made a mistake, they travel inward, smother him, and suck out his life.

The Lowest Form of Human

Call me judgmental, but, in my not-so-humble opinion, the lowest form of human is the YouTube commenter. And a lower subset of that lowest form of human is the YouTube commenter who comments on drum and drumming videos. I felt you should be aware of my feelings on this issue.

But what really crumbles my crackers (and not into the chowder, but right onto the dirty diner table) is people who feel compelled to respond to things with superficial comparisons or connections that are devoid of any cleverness -- nay, of any need to have been said at all... These are comments formed in a teensy little brain and submitted by someone who was no doubt mouth-breathing as he clicked "submit." These comments are always irrelevant to the post or video. They're like yelling out: "I love potatoes!" in the middle of a conversation about theology.

Today, I watched a video from a drum shop that I like, in which a fine player is demonstrating a beautiful Pearl "piccolo snare drum." (As the name suggests, this is a snare that is shallow and smaller than the usual snare.) There were a few comments, and I happened to see one that said: "Is it the late nineties again?"

[Pause for me to smash things; sweep books off of shelves; spike potted plants; kick over end-tables; elbow-smash a few windows; rip open a throw-pillow with my teeth and consider kicking the dog.]

Very clever. Ho-ho-ho. It is to laugh. Piccolo snares were popular in the late nineties. Kudos on knowing that. How about a discussion of how nice and unusually warm this particular maple drum sounds? Hm? How about discussing the drum and not making your pathetic attempt at proving you can see connections? -- that you know your drum history? Do you also walk up to people who are reading in the park and say, "What are we, in a library?" and walk away chuckling to yourself?

You know what? No. I'm not going to try to expand this into other people. It is always musicians; usually drummers. I'll be watching a tremendous performance by, say Bernard Purdie, shot in the eighties, and some doorstop will inevitably comment, "Dude -- is that Bill Cosby?"

Because he is black? Because he is wearing a colorful sweater? Good job of completely missing the sublime depth of the man's rhythmic concept; good job hiking through glorious countryside while watching your feet; good job putting your egocentric need to speak before your own personal education. Good job of perpetuating your sub-mediocrity.

And for what? To see you name in a list of comments.

[Stands still in middle of room full of broken furniture breathing savagely; calms down; sheepishly picks up a capsized lamp. Picks up book; looks at author picture; speaks in cartoonishly stupid voice:]

"The Sun Also Rises? Dude, I didn't know Santa wrote books..."

Hemingway

Safety Beyond the Interwebs?

In some ways, I guess I am a rube.

This morning, I heard a report on the radio about a big company (I forget which one) that is "asking the question" as to whether there is "any way in the world" to protect its data from hacking. The fact that they have to ask this question seems spooky to me. It seems like the mass-thought has settled into total acceptance of the status quo. 

For the modest price of, say, ten million dollars, I would like to offer this company advice -- a way to prevent data from being hacked. I'll trust them to send a check the moment they see this. Here it is:

Take it off-line. Eschew the Internet.

You are most welcome, big company with a hacking problem.

Parenting By Paranoia?

For the "the world is changing" file:

I could make this a much better story if I gave you the details, but I have a policy of protecting my sons' privacy. I'll tell a story or here about them, if it is either flattering or neutral, but I generally don't get into anything too personal. I respect them and I have respected them since the day they were born. I have a feeling (or at least a fervent hope) that this respect will be sensed and returned as they get older...

Anyway, I will let this post suffer in quality by not giving you the details, for that reason. Let it suffice to say that one of my sons is in a position in which he is being teased. (No big alarm, here -- it happens; I'm not going to call in the SWAT teams, as is the policy, now, in American schools.) I gave him advice. I pointed out that I think what he sees as his friends having fun with him is actually them setting him up for ridicule. You'd agree, I think, but we will have to leave it at that.

Brassai

Despite the low alarm nature of this, last night it was mentioned that one of his friends is video taping. It's nothing criminal. It's just something silly. But you know how cruel kids are, without video-taped evidence of goofiness.

Will someone help me with this? Here I go again feeling sorry that I brought kids into this world. How do you explain to kids the dangers of social media and of the attached lack of privacy? Worse, how do you convince them it is a problem in a world in which they are growing up? -- in which (at least, to me) nightmarish surveillance is the norm?